


Seven Day Snowstorm

by happy29



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy29/pseuds/happy29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray K is stuck at home during a snowstorm while Fraser is out on patrol far from home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Day Snowstorm

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Butterfly ghost for the prompt of 'snowstorm'

“Ray, do …ou …opy?” Fraser’s voice crackled through the radio breaking the peaceful tranquility within the cabin. Two seconds of silence and I heard my broken name repeated through the static. “…ay? Ca… you …ear me?”

My head snapped up from the dish I was rinsing in the sink. Without thinking, I dropped the small bowl in the sink. It shattered but I didn’t care. I bolted into the living room, jumping over the arm of the couch to get to the two-way radio before I lost contact with Fraser. “Shit…” the curse rolled off my tongue quicker than I could stop it, as my foot caught in the blanket, sending me sprawling to the floor in a heap. “Hold on, Ben…” I yelled even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. Untangling myself from the blanket and kicking it to the side, I got to the radio just as his voice broke the silence again.

“Brace yourself, Ray,” he warned, unsure if he was talking to me or thin air.

“Ben…” I depressed the button and spoke breathlessly. “I’m here.” I breathed in deeply, trying to catch my breath from the mad sprint across the cabin. Worry set in quickly. Fraser rarely contacted me when he was out on patrol. “Are you okay?” 

It was Fraser’s turn in the rotation to patrol the remote area furthest north from the depot. Even though he was the boss, the one who made up the schedule, he never let himself off the hook when it came to putting his name in the rotation. That was just how Fraser worked. And everyone under him respected him for his leadership. He had been gone for a full day already and should have reached the outer limits of his patrol zone by now. A solid twenty four hours had passed. We both knew there was a storm coming in and he had been hoping to make it home before it hit. 

“I’m fine, Ray. The weather’s going to turn ugly much quicker than forecasters had anticipated.” There was a trace of uneasiness in Fraser’s voice that wasn’t normally there and it scared me.

The static had cleared and I could now understand what he was saying. 

“Are you going to make it back before it hits?” I knew the answer before I asked. “You could leave now. Head back out again after the storm clears.” Logic always worked best with me, Fraser not so much… duty and all that stuff about maintaining the right always worked itself in front of logic with him.

“No. I should be able to reach the nearest detachment before it’s upon us.” I can hear the nervousness in his voice, which unnerves me even more. “I needed to let you know I was going to be okay so you didn’t spend the next few days worrying if I don’t make it home on time.”

“Okay,” I say so quietly it’s almost a whisper. “At least you got Dief with you, that makes me feel better.” And it does, to an extent, but I will still worry.

“Promise me you won’t go out unless it’s an emergency.” 

“Frase,” I chuckle a little as I pull back a curtain and look out at the partly sunny sky, suddenly wondering what had him all worried. “I’ll be fine.” The sky was darkening in the distance, but it was approaching late afternoon. But I agreed to stay in knowing it would help settle his nerves. And he knew once I said I wouldn’t go anywhere, I wouldn’t.

“Ray, you need to make sure there’s enough firewood and oil in the lanterns. It’s likely we will lose power at some point during the storm. You will take care of that?”

“Of course,” I reassure him and I can hear him breathe a sigh of relief. “Bring in the wood so it’s dry and there’s plenty in the house so I won’t have to go back out, fill the lanterns… I got it Frase. We’ve been through all this before. I’ll be fine. You just find yourself some shelter and stay safe.”

“Okay…”he replies softly. “I will try and keep in touch, but we may lose a signal due to the storm.” The uneasiness is back in his voice and I take another peak out the window. The sky had turned dark in just a matter of minutes. Pine trees that surrounded the cabin rustled in the gusting wind. “I …ove you …ay,” his voice crackled again.

“What’s that?” I knew what he had said, but I asked him to repeat it just so I could maybe hear the whole thing. Who knew when I would hear him say it again.

Silence.

“Ben?” I depressed the button again, concerned I had already lost contact with him. A few crackles of static and he was back.

“I said, ‘I love you’.” 

“I love you too. Be careful, Ben.” I knew he would be. He was always careful out in his element. Still didn’t stop me from worrying. With a final crackle, he was gone.

~*~

My back ached when I finally fell into bed that evening. I had brought in as much firewood as I could fit next to the stove, packing it into neat piles next to the wood burner and along the far wall in the kitchen next to the pantry. It had begun snowing almost the instant I lost radio contact with Ben. Snowstorms in Canada still take me by surprise. They come up so quickly and are treacherous from the get go. The lanterns lined the far edge of the counter, all filled and ready to be lit when we lost power. I stepped out a few times to shovel a path to the door of the cabin in the remote chance that Ben actually made it back before the worst of the storm hit. After the third attempt, I hung the shovel on the hook, so it wouldn’t get lost in the quickly accumulating snow and decided to try again when it was lighter out the next day. Fraser wouldn’t make it back by nightfall anyway. He was too far away and he knew better than anyone to find shelter before it got dark. Fraser wasn’t kidding when he said it was going to snow… a lot.

~*~

The following morning, I hobbled out of bed. My left ankle sore from getting wrapped up in the blanket during my not so glorious leap across the couch the day before. I popped some Advil, brewed some coffee and settled on the couch with a bowl of oatmeal. Yeah… me, Ray Kowalski eating one of Fraser’s staple foods, oatmeal. It’s not all that bad if I eat it quickly and don’t dwell too much on it looking like wallpaper paste. It definitely sustains me longer than my bowl of Fruit Loops. Not that I can ever find Fruit Loops at the store up here in the middle of well… in the middle of nowhere. 

I set my bowl and mug on the coffee table and stoke a fire to life in the wood stove. The wind is howling now and I shudder against the cold as I bundle up to go shovel Fraser a path to the front door. Because there’s a slim chance he may just make it home today… and I don’t want him to get lost in the two feet of snow right outside the door.

So I bundle up, throw my scarf around my neck, pull my hat down over my ears and brace myself for the torrent of snow that’s about to hit my face when I open the door. It does, but that doesn’t stop me, because Fraser might be home today. I find the shovel hanging where I left it and for the next hour work against the wind and snow to clear him a path. 

When I turn around to rehang the shovel, my path is gone already. I hang my head defeated and vow to try again later. But first, I need another round of coffee. So, I make a pot of coffee and mix together a batch of muffins for Dief and then settle myself on the couch again. 

Coffee cup resting on my thigh, muffin melting in my mouth, the cabin is quiet except for the whistling wind and the crackling fire. I wish Dief were here to try and steal the muffin from me then I wouldn’t feel so alone right now. And Fraser too, yeah… I really wish he were here. And not out there…

I glance at the coffee table and scold myself for leaving my breakfast dishes laying around. And then I laugh, because when did I ever scold myself for leaving dishes laying around? Oh yeah… about the time I hooked up with the Mountie. I spent the remainder of the day cleaning up after myself. A roast was cooking in the oven with vegetables and would be ready in time for dinner, because as I’ve told myself all day… Fraser might just make it home tonight and he would be ready for a warm meal.

Frustrated, I crawl into bed alone, cold and lonely. Fraser didn’t make it home today.

~*~

Losing power on the third day didn’t surprise me. My previous attempts at shoveling were wasted effort, so I decided to preserve my energy instead and try to fire up the generator. After struggling for forty minutes with the blasted thing, my fingers numb and my limbs one step past frozen, I remember Ben telling me we needed to pick up a part for it the next time we went into town.

So, I trudge against the growing snowdrifts and try to shovel one more time. This time, my path lasts for twenty three minutes, give or take. Defeated, I hang the shovel up with more force than necessary and go to light the lanterns. 

A list of things to pick up on the next trip into town was secured to the fridge with a magnet of a bowling ball Vecchio sent us from Florida. I add generator part under oatmeal. Bet it wasn’t snowing in Florida.

If Fraser were here… we would crawl back into bed, pull the covers up over us and lose a few layers of clothes between us. But he’s not and I’m starting to think that he won’t make it home today either.

I fall asleep with my head buried in his pillow.

~*~

On the fourth day, I used three mugs and left them all on the end table with the hope that Fraser would come waltzing in the front door soon just so he could scold me for not putting them in the sink right away. He would ask in this polite way only Fraser can pull off, ‘Did you really need to use _three_ mugs, Ray?’ 

I got up, washed all three and stored them in the cupboard where they belonged. I heated up some roast that evening for dinner just so it wouldn’t go to waste, not that I wanted to eat alone.

The stillness inside of the cabin was driving me mad. I was going crazy trying to distinguish between the crackling of the fire and the possible crackling of the radio. I dug through a drawer in the spare room looking for batteries for my radio. Maybe all I needed was some music to calm my nerves. A little Bon Jovi to get me through the lonely evening. 

I curled up on the couch, missing Dief lying on my feet to keep them warm and Fraser at my side. After forty minutes, the music was too loud. What if I missed a call from Fraser because I was rocking with Bon Jovi? I shut off the music and went to bed. Lying so still, barely breathing and listening to the crackling embers in the fire… wishing it was Fraser’s voice breaking through the blazing storm instead.

~*~

Day five had to have been the worst for the weather. I heard a pine tree snap and held my breath, praying it didn’t fall on the cabin. It missed the cabin by a few feet, but took out another tree instead. I could live with that. And maybe Fraser would have some wood come spring to make some new carvings of the polar bears that I like.

Most of the day was spent pacing and reading the same magazine article over and over. I could tell you the history of the Mackinac Bridge forwards and backwards if you were interested in that sort of thing, which I’m not. But the article was complex enough that it took my attention away from worrying about Ben the thirteen different times I read it. 

I go to bed thinking and worrying about _Ben_. I don’t worry about _Fraser_ , because I know he is safe and all tucked away in an igloo like an Eskimo or a bear hibernating in a cave all warm and cozy. Fraser will have all the physical stuff taken care of. The food, the safe place to stay, I know that he has it all worked out. No, I worry about _Ben,_ the man that hides behind the Mountie mask. I worry if he’s lonely, if he’s scared. Moving to his side of the bed, I fall asleep in his usual position, facing my side of the bed. Because, just maybe… Ben will make it home tonight and if he does… his side of the bed will be warm already for him.

~*~

Cabin fever is a serious illness. I found this out on day six. Nauseous from worry and fear for Ben’s safety, I threw up twice early in the morning. I forced myself to eat some oatmeal and drink some coffee to stay warm. 

When I realized later in the afternoon, that I had left my mugs on the coffee table to accumulate again, I threw them against the wall of the cabin, shattering them into tiny pieces. Missing Fraser was turning me into a slob. I just needed Ben to come home. I was feeling unsettled and nervous for his safety. Exhaustion won over and I dropped myself to the floor, a weeping mess of frazzled nerves. 

I’m not sure how long I sat there, but I forced myself to get up and clean up the broken pieces of ceramic. I add mugs to the shopping list in the kitchen and go to bed because Ben wasn’t coming home… not today.

~*~

Frosty eyelashes brushed against my warm cheek, melting instantly and leaving a wet trail along my jawline. The bed dipped and there was a swirl of cold air as the blankets were pulled back. I cracked open an eye, believing I was having a wild dream of Fraser and sex in the snow. My one open eye caught sight of two blue eyes staring back at me. My other eye flew open taking in the beautiful sight of my lover before me.

“You’re home,” I exclaimed before grabbing his freezing cheeks in between my hands and catching his lips in a desperate kiss before he could utter any form of response. He didn’t need to respond, because I could feel his weight in my arms and his chapped lips against mine as they responded in kind.

Seven days in a snowstorm and Ben was finally home.


End file.
